


The Winter Queens Statue

by LadyCassie



Series: The Lady of Winterfell [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Jon Snow is King in the North, Queen Sansa, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10067867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyCassie/pseuds/LadyCassie
Summary: There stands a statue in the courtyard of Winterfell. The Winter Queen Sansa Stark stands tall, her Direwolf Lady stands beside her, although it is known that the wolf died in the Great Lady's early years. There are many tales as to why the Great Lady had two statues.





	

_**I do not own Game of Throne** _

* * *

There stands a statue in the courtyard of Winterfell. The Winter Queen Sansa Stark stands tall, her Direwolf Lady stands beside her, although it is known that the wolf died in the Great Lady's early years. There are many tales as to why the Great Lady had two statues. One stands for all to see in the courtyard, while the other is closed off beneath the castle, in the crypts below, where the Great Lady lays in slumber.

It is said that when the Great Lady went into her eternal slumber, that King Jon did not wish to ever go a day without seeing her beautiful face, and had a statue made so that each day when he walked the grounds she would be there, in the same spot where she had once always waited for him.

She wore a winter cloak, one of her gloved hands was out held as if waiting for the King to join her. A small smile forever graced her lips, the talk of many poets, who claimed that they had heard her whisper the Kings name.

It is a well-known tale, the story of King Jon Targaryen and his Queen Sansa Stark. Their love story is one of the best known, but it is their parting which left its mark upon the people.

* * *

She had been the love of his life, the mother of his children, his Queen, so to have to say goodbye was something Jon had never thought he would have to do. She had grown sick before the birth of their last child, their daughter, Daenerys, named for Jon's aunt and the reigning Queen.

She had been born with hair as pale as the moon, and eye's the color of Amethyst. She was not the first of their children to be born with strong Targaryen blood, but like her namesake, she would come into the world claiming her mother's life.

Jon had entered the room to the sight of his beloved soaked in blood. Her rosy lips were almost blue. It was as if she had been out in the cold for too long. When their gazes lock, it not her familiar bright blue eye's which he see's, for they have dulled, the light slowly fading from them.

When she holds out her palm for him to take, his mind catches up to what he see's, and he is at her side in seconds. Her skin is cold to touch, her breath shallow as if each breath steals more life than it gives.

"Sansa," Jon pleaded, holding her cold hand in his own. "Don't go." For he knew what was to happen and yet he wished that he wouldn't have to face it.

"I'm just going to sleep, for a little while." She breathed in return, her eyes growing heavy.

Their youngest son stood on the other side of the bed, the other's having gone to King's landing for the Queen's name day feast.

"Father?" Jon clenched his teeth as he looked at his son's lost expression.

"Someone, take him away," Jon called, unable to look at his son.

"No, come here Ned," Sansa whispered, beckoning him closer with her other hand.

The boy was beside Jon no sooner had the words left Sansa's lips. His brave Ned. Jon knew that out of all their children, Sansa had favored him most, and he, in turn, had always looked to Sansa.

"My Ned, you'll look after your sister for me, won't you?" Sansa asked, and Jon shook his head, his heart breaking for the boy, who was holding back tears.

"I will, mother." Ned nodded, looking down at the bloodied covers. "Are you,...are you going away?" His Stark gray eyes were brimming with tears, which he barely kept at bay.

Sansa sucked in a breath as her own tears fell as she answered. "I think so," She said now looking to Jon, who looked more broken than she had ever seen him. "But no matter where I am, I will always love you."

"I know." It broke both Jon and Sansa's hearts to hear such words from their boy. "I love you too, mother."

Sansa slipped her hand free from Jon's and brushed her hand through Ned's soft brown hair. "Why don't you go meet your sister, Hm?

Ned's eye's searched her's, seeming to know that this was the end. Sansa pulled him forward so that she could place one last kiss upon his forehead, before one of the maids came to usher him away, Sansa smiling at him before the door closed.

"Sansa, you can't leave me."

Any strength she had tried to show when facing her son, fell away with only Jon in the room. Sam had done his best, she would not fault him on that, but to carry on and give false hope was something Sansa hadn't wanted, nor wished for, because she knew her fate. The leaves of the God Tree whispered her name, calling her, telling her that her time was near.

"You've got to be strong, the others could arrive at any time now. They'll need to see their father strong, and Arya too." Jon knew she was right, their older children were due to arrive any day, they could have been in the castle and Jon wouldn't have cared to know, for only Sansa mattered right now. "I need you to love her, Jon, no matter how much it might hurt to do so," She pleaded her hand reaching for him.

Jon closed his eye's, thinking of Ned in the other room with his newly born daughter. She was the reason Jon would lose Sansa, the reason his other children would lose their mother, Arya and Bran their sister, but Jon couldn't hate her. She was a part of himself and Sansa, just like all their other children, and as much as it would hurt, he would love her too.

"I will," He promised, choking on his words.

She smiled, her eye's never moving from his, for he would be the last thing she saw. "You'll tell the other's that I love them?" He nodded as he climbed onto the bed, adjusting her so that she lay back against his chest, his fingers running through her damp hair. "And Rickon, you'll tell him that I'm sorry," Her eye's had closed, and Jon held her tighter, not ready to let go.

"For what?" Jon knew that their eldest Rickon had not wanted to leave for Kings Landing, as the next in line, he'd had no choice, although he tried everything to stay, even sending Dany a letter. He'd left in the end, but he'd been the last out the gate, he'd clung to Sansa so much, that Jon had made a joke that he was more boy than man.

"I'm breaking a promise." She said, tilting her head back so that she was pressing her face against Jon's neck. "I promised that I'd be waiting in the courtyard upon his return, the way I'd wait for you."

Jon squeezed his eyes shut because Sansa had always waited in the courtyard for his return, always in the same spot. "He'll understand," Jon said in return.

"I love you, Jon Snow." She whispered, and Jon pressed a kiss to her temple as he told her of his love for her, of how she was more to him than just his wife, she was his heart, and he'd never love another the way he loved her.

He felt it, the moment her last breath passed her lips. He weeps silently, cradling her her close, he's unsure of how long he stays alone in the room, cradling his dead wife, but when Sam comes telling him that it's time that they take her away, he ask's for just a while longer.

* * *

His children are not there to see Sansa before she is brought down into the crypts. A storm in the Riverlands has kept them in Riverrun until a time when they can continue to travel. It is on Jon's order that his children are not informed of Sansa's death, least they brave the storm.

Jon and Ned alone stand guard over Sansa the night before she is be taken below. Gendry would have joined them, Jon knows, had he not been tasked with helping the stone mason crave Sansa's statue, as well as the other statue Jon wants to be made also.

Other's have of course come to pay their last respects to the Winter Queen, but only her family are given the pride of watching over the Queen in the night. Jon is silent the whole night, while Ned lets out small sobs every so often, all the while whispering to Sansa. Jon listens closely to his son, replaying each story of Sansa over in his mind as Ned speaks.

When sunlight begins to fill the room, Jon knows that it time to leave his beloved Sansa to her sleep. He knows that her statue is not yet ready, but she still must be placed below. Ned has fallen asleep at some point, the child's voice having slurred, before fading away.

Carefully as can be Jon lifts him up, and walks to the door knocking gently only for Davos to open it. "Is it time your Grace?" He asks, and Jon knows that he would give Jon all the time he needed.

"Yes," Jon whispers as he hands his sleeping son to Podrick, Sansa's sworn sword, who cradles the boy as if he were Sansa herself. "He's your's to protect now, Pod."

Podrick's eyes widen before he nods his head. Ned is Sansa's baby boy, everyone knows's that Podrick would protect the boy with his life. "Of course, I shall bring him to his chamber to sleep."

Jon watched them until they turned a corner, leaving only himself and Davos. The two men spoke no words as they returned to the room, Sansa's figure illuminated by the morning light shining through the high window. She was as beautiful as the day they'd wed. They'd washed and changed her before they'd laid her out. Now, she looked as if she was just sleeping.

"Lord Edmure, as well as a number of other Lord's, have sent raven's expression their sorrow at the loss of Her Grace," Davos said, his head tilted down but his eyes flicker up to meet Jons. "It's likely that the raven you sent has arrived in Kings Landing."

Jon didn't answer, instead, he reached out to brush his fingers against Sansa's cold cheek. It was slightly wet from Ned's tears, Jon had been unable to tell his son that he shouldn't touch his mother, nor that he was supposed to be quite while watching over her.

"What of Gendry?"

"The statue for the crypt is complete, I've seen it myself. It is Her Grace in all her likeness."

"And the other?"

"Almost ready." Davos supplied, watching his King closely.

The whole of the North, Riverland's, and the Vale mourned the loss of Queen Sansa, but none more than her King. It had been days since the Great Lady's soul had left her body. All the house's had come to pay their respects. Jon had spoken to none, and they'd dared not speak with him during his grieving time.

"Even at the end she was thinking about everyone but herself," Davos smiled sadly at Jon's words. "She told me that she was sorry for breaking her promise to Rickon, but it was really me who broke my promise to her."

"Jon?" Davos asked, knowing that Jon wanted a friend, not his hand right then.

"She was so lovely the day we wed, the day we said our vows, I remember taking her back into the garden when everyone else was busy in hall, I promised her that we'd spend forever together, that we'd grow old together and see all our children grown,"

Davos seemed to have seen where Jon was heading as he cut in. "You can't think that this is your fault? Sansa wouldn't want you to think like that,"

"Isn't it? I was the one who wanted another child,"

"Yes, and now you have her. That sweet little girl is going to grow up without a mother, but you, you'll remind her of Sansa. The woman who you knew better than any other, she'll look to you and you'll tell her how much Sansa loved her, how Sansa was more than the Queen of Winter."

It took some time for Jon to answer.

"I thought we'd grow old together, that I'd hear her laugh that my hair had gone gray long before her own," He smiled. "I thought I'd have her beside me forever," Jon confessed.

"You'll carry her close to your heart, and there she may always remain." Davos offered.

Bending, Jon brushed his lips against her's. "I love you, Sansa, always." He promised before he pulled away, he was ready to let her go.

* * *

It was the sound of laughter which reached those in the courtyard first, alerting them to the homecoming of the prince's and princess's, each galloping towards the castle. It is, of course, Rickon who raced in first, his eye's searching for Sansa's already calling her name.

The twins Robb and young Jon, came to a halt once they saw their father, but Rickon turned his horse back and forth while calling for his mother. Ayra bounded in behind, Lyra riding at her side, while his wildest daughter Marg whooped as she jumped from the horse, having not even stopped the beast before her feet were on the ground and she was rushing to greet Jon.

"Father, has our new sibling arrived, is that why Mother has not come to greet us?" She asked, her arms wrapping around Jon, but pulled away when he did not return the embrace.

Rickon finally halted his horse, eyeing Jon before his eye's moved over to where a large cloth covered something in the center of the yard.

Rickon was the only one of Jon and Sansa's children who had been born with Sansa's Tully red hair, his purple eyes were the brightest of all their children. He was Sansa's first born, her pride and joy, her baby, even if he was a man now.

"A new sister," Jon said, smiling softly despite his sorrow.

"And mother?" Marg questioned, her purple eye's hopefully.

Jon took a deep breath, before striding forward, he stopped when he neared the cloth and looked to Rickon before he ripped the cloth away, revealing to all what lay underneath.

A gasp rippled through the crowd, as each took in the magnificence of the statue before them.

Jon thought her beautiful in the morning light, his Sansa. Gendry and the stone mason had worked themselves to the bone to create Sansa's mirror image on the stone.

"She's...gone?" Rickon asked brokenly, staring at Jon.

"Sam did everything he could,"

"No," Rickon shook his head. "Where is she? Mother! Mother!" He began shouting, twisting around in every direction as if waiting for Sansa to appear.

"Rickon," Arya began as she dropped from her horse, but he didn't wait around, he was already running past the staff. "Rickon come back!"

Jon held up his hand as he turned to follow him, knowing that now, more than ever he needed to be a father.

He followed the shouts, his son's voice ringing loud and clear throughout the halls, and eventually Jon was lead to Sansa's room. It had been cleaned and the bed lay fresh and untouched since the maids had changed it. All Sansa's things lay on her dresser, her slippers still lay at the foot of the bed, her gown still hung on the wall.

Rickon whirled around when he heard Jon enter the room and pushed Jon up against the wall, rage burning brightly in his purple eyes. "You did this," Rickon hissed, his fist tightening their hold on Jon's tunic.

"I'm sorry," Jon said and then watched his son fall apart.

Jon remembered the day his son had been born. Sansa had been unwilling to let the boy go, wanting to cradle him even in her sleep as if the babe would disappear if she let go. Rickon had been such a quiet child, nothing like their brother had been, but Sansa had wanted to name him Rickon none the less.

"She's gone, she really gone," Rickon cried, his face pressed against Jon's shoulder. "I'm going to miss her so much."

"I know, and she wanted to be here, but things don't always happen the way you think they will."

* * *

It is said that years later when King Rickon Targaryen took the iron throne, he wished for his mother's statue and bone's to be moved to King's Landing. Many say that another war almost broke out over the long dead Queen, whose other children refused to allow the bones to be taken.

They also refused to give up the prized statue, and instead had a second made as a gift to their brother. The second statue to this day, remains a favorite for guests to visit, although there is one small detail which set the two apart.

Where Queen Sansa stands alone in Kings Landing, she does not in Winterfell, for a second Statue had been added later.

Where once she had stood waiting, she now stands joined. For in her own palm is the hand of her King, who later joined her in her enteral sleep, forever together beneath the great stone castle of Winterfell, never to be parted again.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, then you should check out my story 'The Red Wolf's Ghost.'


End file.
